#SPNfanfic

[winchester-reload]

The Suptober 2022 Prompt List

That’s right, Suptober is back, baby!

For anyone who doesn't know, Suptober is a month-long Supernatural-themed creative challenge that I started five years ago on a whim and quickly took over our October activities for years to come. The prompt list is made by yours truly, and creative output is made by YOU. Think: inktober meets NaNoWriMo meets the SPN fandom. This means you can write, draw, edit, do photography--your choice. 

It’s an incredibly fun, creative block of time filled with overwhelming community support and a massive wall of new supernatural creations for all to consume. Participate, if you can. If you can’t, be sure to interact and reblog the creations of the people who do!

Rules:

Fill the appropriate prompt for each day of October, and try to go for the whole 31 days.

 All prompt posts must be Supernatural-themed.

 Please use each prompt as a personal challenge. This means, there’s no word count requirement or art requirement, but don’t slap six words on a page or draw two lines and call it good.

 Don't post early! (You can post late, but not early! (This is based on your time zone.))

 No incest/non-con.

Like, comment, and reblog each other's suptober creations!

No hate (that means no actor-hating or participant-on-participant hating. If I see it, you will be blocked.)

USE TAG #suptober22 on your posts so we can follow you! I’ll be monitoring that tag and reblogging art from there when I have time!

Post your art on whatever platform you want, but if you want it to be part of an archive, also post it to the Ao3 collection here.

This year more than the previous ones Suptober will be a self-moderated challenge. I'm here to cheerlead and celebrate your creations with you, but I won't be meticulously archiving the posts on tumblr like I have in the past. This year, I want to participate! (Selfish, I know. But I have a good feeling you all won't hold it against me 😉)I will reblog things as I see them though, so don’t worry about that!

Okay, now go and be free! Start brainstorming!

For a text version of the list, go here.

Join the Suptober Discord Here

Questions? Comment below or shoot me an ask!

[spnisthewayoflife]

Stand-In Dad

Based on this Twitter prompt. Go read it over on ao3

[the-family-business-83]

Species Decipit

Part 1 | Masterlist WIP

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: The Winchester brothers were once good friends with Sarah. She was a good hunter, and made pretty good company too. But after running into the Men of Letters, things changed drastically for the trio.

Type: Series

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OFC Sarah Rogers (probably more that'll be introduced later on)

Genre: Angst, action, slight fluff, possible smut but not yet

Warnings: If you haven't seen the whole show, this series contains spoilers for seasons 11-12.

There will be mentions of blood and violence, and alcohol use. There will also be a fair amount of cussing, but not more than what's in the show. If those aren't your thing though, read at your own risk. Some parts of this series may contain more of these subjects than others. Also, fair warning, this gets very angsty, like a lot of angst, so be prepared.

Word count: 3,493

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist!

Beta: I don't know their Tumblr tag but @Outofnowhere82 on Discord, a member of the @spnfanficpond, helped me with this one

A/N: I posted this on Wattpad first, it was posted with the title "Everybody Wants to be My Enemy" (Link here) but I decided to change it a little and post it here too. I think I like this one better so I hope you guys enjoy this angst-coaster ride 🥰

The moment she pulled the key from her pocket and slotted it into the keyhole of the heavy iron door, Sarah had to take a moment just to breathe in. The walk up after sliding out of her car was one that felt like she'd been on auto-pilot, as her mind was already wandering through the surreality of being back here again. How many times had she come in, and yet this time would be among one of the only–if not the only–that she did so without the two lumbering flannel-clad brothers Winchester flanking her sides; the only time she'd come here without knowing that they'd probably be waiting beyond that door, for her to come in or to open it for her.

But as she closed her eyes for a brief second, she shook the thoughts away and turned the key over to unlock the mechanism, and pulled it out only when she heard the familiar click to grant her access. Descending down the small winding staircase, she made it to the second and final door to go inside, which she pushed open after another quick unlock with the key, and stepped inside as she tucked said key into one of her pockets a moment later. Her gaze shifted throughout the room, her cerulean hues not being able to see much in the pitch dark. Sarah pulled a flashlight out of the duffle bag on her shoulder, and clicked it on as she carefully made her way down the stairs to find the power box. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling she had at the fact that the place was not only dark but also so quiet she probably could have heard a faucet leaking in the shower room halfway across the bunker. It was stupid wishful thinking but some part of her had hoped that maybe, just maybe they were home… but they weren't, and she told herself to grow up because it was stupid to have hoped for in the first place.

Once she found the power box, the blonde flicked her eyes over the different switches for a moment, before pushing the correct ones up to turn everything on. In the blink of an eye, everything in the war room lit up, followed by the library, and in the hallways that lead out of the war room. For a moment, it was almost soothing, because she was reminded of the first time she'd come here seeing the place all lit up in all its true glory. She still remembered Sam explaining what the place was, where things were, and the house rules. Which of course, Dean had chimed in for that last part, no surprise there. But the memory, fleeting as it came, made the tall huntress smile faintly in reminiscence. It was such a simpler time, compared to now.

When her mind came back to reality a second later, Sarah cleared her throat and clicked off her flashlight, putting it away as she took a right and started heading down the hallway towards where the rooms were. She was headed for her own room, so she could set her things down at least, but curiosity got the better of her when she passed by familiar number 11; Dean's room. She's already gone past it but something made her stop, and backtrack to the door where she turned and clenched her jaw as if it would hold back the wave of guilt that threatened to come forward. She shouldn't have come back here, it was hard enough to be finding her footing right now without those men, and the place may have been home once but now it just reminded her of the things she'd done. Yet somehow she couldn't stop herself as she pushed the door open further from where it was slightly open just a crack.

Fumbling her hand along the wall on the inside of the room, she flipped the light switch on. She didn't know what she was really expecting, but she wasn't sure she was prepared to see it still in the same shape as it had been the last time she'd seen it. Wall decorated with all Dean's weapons as per usual, a crate filled with vinyl records right next to his record player just as he liked it, his desk still a mess that had a system of Dean's own devising…. And most of all the bed of all things was still half-assed in the process of making it. It made her shake her head slightly but whether it was out of familiar amusement or sadness would be up for debate. She made her way over to the record player then, and set her bag on the chair before selecting a Rolling Stones album. The needle was set on its surface a moment later as the blonde set it up, and she turned up the volume a bit while the classic crackling switched to the first notes of "You Can't Always Get What You Want". Admittedly, as she heard it start she almost switched it to a different track, or just a new vinyl entirely, but instead she snorted a sort of scoff at the cruel irony and picked up her bag again as she left the room with the door open so she could hear it continuing to play.

Sarah deposited her bag into her room next, because it happened to be on the way in-between Dean's and Sam's room, always had been. And she didn't even bother with unpacking yet, just leaving her bag on her bed as she ran some cold water to splash on her face with the sink that was in there. It took her a moment to just, settle, because readjusting to what she used to call home was a big step for her, truth be told. But as she hummed along to the song drifting from Dean's bedroom, the tall huntress did actually take it upon herself to trek down the hall further to Sam's room, hands in her pockets as she walked. And what she found was an empty room, bare of decorations, in contrast to his brother's. But the other difference was that it was still neat as ever; neatly made bed, tidy coat rack, not a thing out of place. Unless you counted the few books that were sprawled across that very same neatly made bed, with a small stack living on the desk beside his laptop from whenever the last time he'd used them was. It was a sad sight, as familiar as it was. She was so used to finding the man busying between one book to another in here, whenever he wasn't stationed in the library to do the exact same thing. She didn't spend as much time in that room however; she ended up turning away with a deep breath in and shut the door behind herself, clicking the light off on her way.

Like riding a bike, she found the kitchen with no problem, and bumped the light on with her elbow as she was mid-way through pulling her shoulder-length hair into a messy bun. Once that was done, she went straight for the fridge to find herself a beer….if there even was any still. She didn't trust any of the food in there honestly, not with how long it had been. So she didn't think much of any of it or how it looked as she shut the door a moment later and instead searched out the bottle of Jack she'd always kept in one of the cabinets for safekeeping. Glad it was still in its same hiding spot, Sarah took to finding herself a glass a moment later, poured some liquor into it and took a long sip. But she damn near dropped it when she heard a very deep, very familiar voice as she froze, thankful that the bottle was already on the counter. She hadn't even heard him come in but that voice sure alerted her to his presence, followed by the feeling of metal against her henley covered spine.

"Don't move a muscle, bitch." His voice was hard, gravely with how low his tone was despite being just loud enough to catch her attention. His signature etched silver Colt M1911 with ivory grips was up and aimed square at her as he pressed it against the middle of her back, and if looks alone could kill, Dean's stoney features probably would have. Sarah wasn't normally on the receiving end of such looks, but she'd seen them before, and she didn't need to look at him to feel it on her now, just knowing he was glaring holes into the back of her skull. The weary woman didn't say anything at first, too stunned to really know what to say and not daring to move with how Dean looked. So there was a moment of utter silence between the two, one that was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

"I'm gonna start asking questions and so help me I better get nothing but straight answers from you." He didn't have to tell her why for her to know what would happen if she didn't. Swallowing hard, she simply nodded, and let him go on. "Why the hell are you here? Did your new, fancy boss send you?"

She didn't know how to describe it, but there was a part of her that grimaced when he said it like that, and yet another part of her couldn't help being pissed underneath whatever showed on the surface. "No. As far as they know I'm dead now. I plan to keep it that way."

"Right. So you just decided to come in for a visit, is that it?" He didn't sound any happier than before, in fact if it was possible he almost sounded a little more pissed. The truth was the last he'd seen her, they were on opposing sides and Dean still couldn't get past it. As far as he knew she was still the Brits' lackey, and in his eyes she was lucky he didn't shoot her on sight. "I'm only gonna ask one more time. Why. Are. You. Here?"

Breathing in deeply she turned just a little more to face him better, and in the same motion pulled the gun swiftly from his hands as she clicked out the cartridge before tossing it onto the counter. She didn't get a word in, at least not much beyond an 'I was-', before she had to duck as a heavy right hook was coming her way. She was quick to move with his hits, keeping up decently as they scuffled there in the kitchen but he played dirty by chucking a towel in her face to disorient her and proceeded to sweep her legs from under her. Going down with a grunt as she hit the hard tile floor; before she knew it she was wrapped up by the man as he knelt beside her, his arms expertly around her neck in a headlock as she tried to squirm and free herself.

Unaware for the moment, Sam came into the bunker right about then, dumping his things on the war room table for now because he'd noticed with the lack of a response from his brother with the conversation he'd tried to start, that Dean wasn't in sight, and frowned as he looked around. "Hey, dude- where'd you go? Dean??" He waited another moment or so before he started down one of the halls and calling out louder for him to hopefully hear. "Dean! Hey, where are you man?"

Still there had been no response. Giving a tired sigh, the taller Winchester ran a hand through his hair, about to give up. But that was when he caught, albeit faintly, scuffling from the kitchen, before a few metallic clangs of things clashing, and that put the male into alert mode as he then pulled his pistol out and began jogging for the kitchen as he followed the direction of the sounds. "Dean?! Dean!!"

By the time Sam got there, Sarah was fighting just to stay conscious, because there was nothing within her immediate reach that she could really use, and even if she wasn't short, Dean was still bigger than her and so it was hard to fight him off. "De- Dean- lis'n- pl'se- I'm not he- to hur- I jus-" the huntress tried to choke out against the strong forearm squeezed against her windpipe. She hadn't even noticed Sam arriving, as she was too focused on keeping her vision focused and trying to get oxygen–both of which she was definitely failing at with how the bigger man holding her made it impossible to get enough air in no matter how hard she kicked and fought.

"Dean, what is-" and this time, Sam was the one to cut himself off, because he recognized the blonde right away even in that situation. And he almost, almost shot her right there because of how he'd come into this. But the pacifist buried in him urged him not to, at least for now, so instead he readjusted his aim to be towards her thigh, grazing just enough to not be too fatal but also enough to catch attention and keep her from running very far. "Dean! Hey, let her go!"

At first all Dean gave his brother was a hard look, because the idea was insane. She'd tried to kill them before, or at least fed them to the lions in a way, and he really fucking hoped his brother wasn't trying to forgive her for all of that. But Sam's voice came again, urging him. "Dean, c'mon. She can't get away like that, you can let her go."

Finally, with a split second of debating, Dean let her go with a grumble, and stood up as he went to grab his gun and reload it before aiming it on Sarah once more.

Had she the lung capacity, Sarah would have screamed when her leg was shot like that. But she didn't, and so no sound left her unless you count the squeak that briefly croaked out at it, with her eyes scrunching shut to grit through the pain. Even still, she fought to keep herself conscious, and when she was finally released? She fell to her side, one arm weakly propping herself up while the other massaged her throat as she coughed, trying to regain air to lessen the stars in her blotted vision. After a moment, she finally leaned herself up against the island as she just worked on catching her breath, a hand squeezed against her thigh where the bullet had hit her to help stem the bleeding. It was already staining her jeans a dark red, leaving traces on the tiles where it dripped slightly. It wasn't much but it was enough that with the momentary deprivation of oxygen in tandem with the bloodloss—and her own….less than ideal health state—she was already feeling a bit dizzy and fighting to stay awake. She closed her eyes just for a moment against the pain, as if somehow she could will it all away and maybe when she opened them again, this would all have been her imagination so they could start over.

"Now what happened here?" Sam was the first to break the very brief lull of silence, excluding Sarah's coughing, and he glanced to his brother for a moment, arching a brow.

Sarah paused for a moment to settle herself, breathing in first before answering. "I just wanted to come home. There's no reason, there's no scheme, nothing… I'm just trying to get a handle on myself again, that's all. I didn't think you were here, the lights were off and no one seemed to be around." She obliged him with her answer, albeit weakly, despite how she tried not to sound or look it. But Sarah never had been the best at hiding her emotions on her face, or at least not with people who knew her well. In fact, probably the only time she was perfect at it was when the Brits had her under their thumb. But she doubted Sam would believe a word she said, let alone Dean. The look of distrust never once left the older Winchester's features, and once she'd answered, there was even a small squint. She knew all too well that meant he was debating whether to even give her a sliver of trust to believe her story. "Look, Dean, I-"

"Save it. I don't want the pity story you're cooking up there. I want you out of my kitchen and out the damn door. Because so help me, if I see your face in here again-" his voice, which had raised a little to cut the blonde off, was interrupted by his brother as he shot a look at Dean. Never once did Dean's attention leave her though. "Dean, slow down a sec. How'd she even get in?- how'd you get in?" The taller male's gaze shifted to Sarah with the second question, brows furrowed as he tried to work out the equation in his mind.

In any normal circumstance the woman would have been not just relieved but also glad to see the other brother, but any glimpse of those feelings was squashed by the fact that his reaction damn near mirrored Dean's. "I…I still had a key. Look, like I said neither of you were even home when I got here, I thought-" But she cut herself off there, licking her lips and clearing her throat as she quickly changed her words from 'I thought you were really gone' to: "I thought the place was empty, I just needed a place to…find my own head."

"Plenty of motels, coulda bunked down anywhere. Why here?" Dean's response came without skipping a beat. And Sarah had to try not to wince at the coldness in his voice.

That stung. More than she wanted to admit. She knew she'd done….horrible things, she knew that and so in a way she didn't blame him. But that didn't make it hurt any less to hear that from him. "Because this is home. This is square number one for me, I thought it would help-"

This time it was Sam who cut in, mulling over her words. "Help what, exactly? And why should we believe a word from you?"

"You don't wanna believe me, fine. I don't give a rat's ass. But if you're gonna shoot me, shoot me. If you really wanna hear jackshit from me? Stop reaming my ass out and take it or leave it." She sounded frustrated that time, wearily so, and likely because of the pain in her leg for the most part. Fumbling for the towel that had been dropped on the floor, she tugged it over and used it to tie around her thigh because her hand was not only getting tired but also not doing the best job of applying pressure, the blood already beginning to ooze out between her fingers. She grimaced through the sting of pain it shot through her leg, before resting her head back against the island once she'd finished the task and letting her eyes slide closed.

Dean shared a glance with his brother, jaw muscles clenched and gaze asking the silent question of 'your call, what's it gonna be?' because if it was up to him, he was ready to unload a clip in her. Sam was the one giving her any kind of leg to stand on here, so whatever sliver of the emerald eyed man that was giving her even a fraction of a chance, that was the part that was letting Sam make the call.

The taller male took that silent message, and glanced towards Sarah once more, a brief squint flashing through his eyes as he considered the options. "Alright, start talking then. From the beginning, no crap, tell us what happened since you left to work with the Brits."

This was going to be….a long ass night. She knew it would be. Though she supposed it would have been anyway, regardless of whether it went this way or not; the only difference in this version was that they were really still alive, and Sarah wasn't sure if that was more of a relief than it was pain. It was complicated. Whatever the case though, the tired huntress sighed, albeit shallowly due to her current state, but as pained as she was to do so she nodded with eyes closed as if to hide away from the two towering men while she tried to recall. Soon though her mind seemed to fail her, fading into simple darkness as the sounds around her dimmed out. Seconds turned into minutes, without her even realizing, as she stayed like that, unconscious to anything happening around her.

Taglist: @ageekchiclife @babypieandwhiskey @buckys-zomdoll @canadianspnhunter @cas-backwards-tie @castieltrash1 @deanscarlett @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @firefly-in-darkness @idreamofhazel @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @katelyn--renee @kayteonline @kickingitwithkirk @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @manawhaat @melbelle45 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysaintsasinner @mysupernaturalfics @notnaturalanahi @plaidstiel-wormstache @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @supernatural-jackles @there-must-be-a-lock @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trend90s @waywardjoy @whispersandwhiskerburn @akshi8278 @fuiabarcelos @ssonia13

[scribeofwinchesters]

Secrets and Lies: Chapter 10 - Not Up For Discussion

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3,236

Summary:  With the shifter dead, you and Dean head to Sam's last known location to find him… but will it be too late?

Previous chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Sevenandahalf Eight Nine

A/N: I know it's been awhile. Hopefully you read my recent personal update. If no ones out there anymore to read this, that's okay, I get it. Gonna keep going though <3 Link to Ao3 if you prefer

Tag list: @lauraashley93 @stoneyggirl2 @tiggytaylor

You and Dean climbed out of the Impala and hurried to the split doors of the garage. Each of you took one, and together, pushed them shut. You jogged back to the car as Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and locked it before turning to catch up with you. 

As you waited for Dean, in the rearview mirror something caught your eye. Sam’s old ‘70 Dodge Challenger that he’d taken to driving as a backup when Dean needed to keep Baby. 

“Dean,” you said nervously as he approached his open door. Your eyes stayed trained on the reflection of the car. Dean’s gaze followed yours until it fell upon what you'd already seen... the car. 

He hesitated for the slightest second. 

“Stay here,” he said. He turned and hustled over to the car. 

You watched through the mirror as Dean opened the door and the overhead lamp filled the interior of the car with a faint glow. He rummaged through the car's interior before popping the trunk open. You studied what you could of his expression and movements, lit only by the moonlight and the amber haze of the interior, hoping it would pre-warn you as to what might be in the car, in case you needed to brace yourself for… 

You shook your head, not willing to let your thoughts travel down that road yet.

Dean shut the trunk and hurried back to the Impala. 

He climbed in, pulled his door shut, and gunned it. He didn’t let up as the Impala’s tires briefly spun out, spraying gravel in its wake.

"Found this," he said as he pulled a matchbook out of his jacket pocket. "That's in the town Sam was in, where he was working that case. It's just an hour's drive away… we’ll make it in thirty. Call that place, The Lost Creek Inn, see if he checked in under any of his aliases.” 

You nodded silently as you began flipping the matchbook over with one hand and dialed the motel's number that was printed on its label.

Twenty minutes later you had managed to charm the kid at the desk into telling you which room Sam had checked into. He'd also tried ringing Sam’s room twice with no answer. You knew it had been a long shot but you were still disappointed. 

You continued fiddling silently with the matchbook and stared blankly at the road ahead.

Dean had one of his old tapes playing quietly while you’d been on the phone but now that you were done it was just awkwardly quiet. 

“Y/n-” Dean started before you cut him off. 

“Dean, don’t,” you said as you shook your head carefully, flipping the matchbook between your fingers.

Dean watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t ask me… if I’m okay, or whatever. I don’t want to think about it. And if you ask me that… if I have to think about it, then I won’t be. And all I want to do right now is find Sam and until I put my eyes on him, on the real Sam, then nothing else matters.” 

Dean gave you a single nod and faced back toward the dark road. You reached over and turned the volume knob so that the music filled your mind and blocked everything else out. Two more songs played through as the two of you sat silently, your emotions drowned out by the thrumming guitar of Jimmy Page and the crashing cymbals and beating drum of John Bonham. 

Dean glanced at you. You were dialing Sam’s number again. It rang five times and you tapped the red button, ending the call before you could hear Sam’s voice telling you to leave a message, exactly as you had done each previous time. You looked back up at the road, your jaw set as you stared blankly ahead, occasionally reminding yourself to take deep breaths, occasionally reminding yourself to breathe at all. You hadn’t passed a single car the entire way, thankfully, so Dean was able to keep the Impala at a steady one hundred, and then some, miles per hour.

He shifted in his seat and you watched him out of the corner of your eye as he placed his arm across the seat, half-way to you, palm up. It could have easily been perceived as just an awkward stretch but you knew what he was trying to do. He may not be able to comfort you or himself with words, mostly because he couldn’t find them, but he could make sure you knew you weren’t alone. Without looking you dropped the matchbook from your left hand, reached across, and placed your hand in his. He quickly enveloped it in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

The action caused you to briefly remember the words of the shifter. Were Dean’s feelings for you entirely platonic? You shut your eyes and shook your head minutely. The thought was so completely ridiculous to you that you couldn’t even entertain it for a single second. Not even when you’d first heard it back in your room was there a single doubt that the shifter was lying to further torment you. If you googled ‘big brother’ in a perfect world, the first 10 search results would all be Dean Winchester. He embodied everything a big brother should be. He comforted you through the worst, he saved you from purgatory, and he could always make you laugh. Dean was your best friend. And you were his. 

You knew you were close when Dean turned the radio’s volume down to a whisper. It was a small town and the last thing you needed was to get the wrong attention from the cops or locals.

You pulled into the motel parking lot where Dean parked haphazardly and followed closely behind him as he kicked in the door to Sam’s room. He motioned for you to stay at the entrance. He cleared the entire place, gun drawn, and jerked his head upward to let you know it was clear. You shut the door behind you as you both began searching the room for clues. 

Dean went to the closet and pushed the shirts hanging there aside to find a map with various red, sharpie’d x’s and question marks beside three outlying addresses. It was an old road map so it was impossible to tell what you’d find there. Dean yanked on the map, ripping it at the corners where it had been pinned. 

“Come on,” he said.

Once in the car, it was you who placed your palm out for Dean to grasp. He did so as he maneuvered the car out of the parking lot with one hand. 

The Impala bounced as he pulled across the sharp incline of the driveway and Dean grunted out his mild annoyance. 

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t try to convince me to stay back at the bunker,” you said. 

Dean glanced over at you briefly and as he looked away you were certain he winced. His body seemed to shiver and you wondered what he was thinking. Maybe it was your appearance; seeing your cuts and scrapes. You tried not to think about it. He inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry to tell you this but you’ll be lucky if I let you out of my sight ever again. New Winchester family rule. You must be with either me or Sam at all times. I’ll get two twin beds, hell, bunk beds for all I care, in my room, if that’s what it takes,” he said. You expected him to chuckle, or smile at you, to let you know he was joking. 

But he didn’t. 

He was dead serious. 

“Besides that… that thing fucked with the warding and until I can get Cass in there we need to be on red alert.”

“I mean… he had all of Sam’s memories. Maybe there was a spell or something Sam knew that helped him,” you suggested. 

“Maybe…,” Dean said as he pulled the Impala in front of the building that had been the closest of the three red question marks. It was a small, abandoned store at the eastern end of Main St. Its sign hanging out front was replaced with a sun-bleached ‘For Sale’ sign. There was another huge ‘For Sale’ sign hung in the display front window. It had long ago slipped down to one side. Spiderwebs and dust coated every inch of what you could see through the window as well as the awning over the storefront. You and Dean both climbed out and glanced around for onlookers before heading to the window and peeking in. Dean tried the front door. It had not been opened in quite some time. You followed him around back. He shook the handle of the back door which was padlocked. He crouched down and you could see around him that it was old and rusted. 

“No one’s been here in ages,” he commented. 

You followed him back to the Impala and as you climbed in you grabbed the paper map from the dashboard and opened the maps app on your phone to cross-reference the other two question marks, hoping one might jump out to you as being the best place to look next. 

The first one you looked up was a gas station that looked as though it hadn’t been in business for about half a century. You looked at the linked pictures. It was completely dilapidated and covered in graffiti. It was overgrown by tall weeds and encroaching trees. You could hardly see the building from the road anymore. The second was just a blank square on your digital map. No indication of what it was or used to be and no one had shared any images of it. If something about it stood out to Sam as he drove past it then it must have been his gut and Sam’s gut was rarely wrong. You couldn’t imagine it was the gas station. It looked like a smoking spot for high schoolers. Not secluded or private enough for a monster hiding in a small town. 

You handed the map to Dean and pointed to the mysterious question mark as he put the Impala in drive and slid away from the curb. 

“You sure?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Has to be.” 

It didn’t take long to get there. It was tucked away behind several municipal buildings just off Main St. You pulled past the Post Office and Dean turned right. You could see further down the street there were small houses that looked like they’d been built in the post-world-war baby boom of the late forties. They were tucked away behind a row of tall white oaks that had been planted and grown there alongside the lives of the people that lived here over the last seventy years. Behind the post office was a row of Elm trees along either side of a small, broken, and worn driveway. Dean turned off the headlights and slowly pulled the Impala down the drive, between the trees. 

Another ten yards past the row of trees was a small brick building, with no windows and one heavy, steel door. It, too, looked like something built in years long gone. Nondescript, the kind of thing most people drive past and occasionally think, “I wonder what that is,” and then half a second later forget all about it. The entire area was squared in by unnatural rows of trees, separating it from the private property to the left and the post office to the right. It was completely hidden. Behind it towered a large phone tower and immediately you knew what it was. 

“What is this?” Dean wondered aloud.

“An old telephone switchboard building. I think they still use them but now it’s all automated. I’m sure this place only gets visitors when something goes wrong or for routine walks.” 

“Why’s it so hidden?” 

“Well, probably because they don’t want to check on it more than they need to, so they don’t want it to stand out to randos driving past or teenage delinquents. Also, I’m genuinely just guessing, but probably because of the Cold War.” 

“Ruskies. Right,” Dean nodded. Despite having not expounded, that conclusion made absolute sense to him. 

“You and Sam really do belong together. I don’t know a single person other than Sam who would have known any of that,” he said, giving you a gentle smile. 

He’d been doing that, reminding you gently that you and Sam belonged together. As if telegraphing it would comfort you somehow. 

You suddenly realized how hollow you felt inside. It was as though a single marble was bouncing around inside of you, pinging off the metallic edges of you. It collided into nothing because there was nothing there: no heart, no lungs, no muscles or veins, no thoughts or wants or needs. There couldn’t be because until you found Sam, you weren’t a whole person. You had cut yourself off from everything else and you existed, now, only to find him. 

Dean pulled the Impala off the driveway to avoid the off-chance of being seen from the road and cut the engine. You had already reached over the back seat and pulled your handgun packed with silver bullets and two knives from your duffle. The silver one you hooked over the back of your jeans with its holster and the other you tucked down into your boot. 

You opened your door and as you climbed out Dean grabbed you your upper arm. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said in a hushed tone, his face twisted with confusion. “We don’t know that there’s not a second shifter,” he said, seemingly surprised at how easily you were about to jump in without talking it over first. 

You sat back down and stared over at him. “It’s not very likely.” 

“Oh, it’s not likely. Then by all means, just run into the weird, dark building with no windows where there’s god-knows-what inside,” he said, throwing his hands in the air as he whisper-yelled.

You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. “Okay, then how are we doing this?” you asked. “I go right, you go left, reconvene in the back, and go from there?” 

“Mmm, no,” he said in mock consideration. “I think it’ll be best if you stick with me and then we’ll go in together,” he said as he checked over his bullets and shoved the clip inside the weapon with a click as it snapped into place. 

“Dean, we can’t leave any entry poin-” 

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before saying, “Nope. Not a discussion. Let’s go.” He climbed out of the car and you followed suit, rolling your eyes as you went. You each shut your doors as quietly as you could and Dean jogged out in front of you as you fell in line behind him. 

He approached the front door and lightly tugged at the handle. It had zero give. For good measure, Dean pushed it and got the same result. Turning away from the door, he held his gun out in front of him while you pointed yours to the ground. He headed toward the left and it took everything in you to not disobey him to save time by splitting the work and heading right but after everything else, you were not ready to make an argument with Dean the cherry on top of this shit sundae. 

Dean approached each corner of the building with confident ease and carefully spied around the corner before rounding it and guiding you to stay close behind. You periodically checked your back to be safe. It wasn’t an altogether out-of-the-ordinary position for you to be the tail but most often on hunts, you were sandwiched between them, the tall brothers towering over you even when they were hunching to make themselves less visible. It didn’t help you flex your hunter muscles but it did make you feel incredibly safe. And of course, Dean and Sam had many years more of experience on you so it was no use to argue with them. 

After clearing the outside you made your way to the back door. It had seen more use than the front door and you imagined that was because of the lower odds of being seen. It was a small building and you imagined it didn’t even contain any rooms so if there was someone in it, they’d hear you the moment you opened the door. 

Dean tried the handle which was, of course, locked. He pulled his lockpick kit from his back pocket and knelt down as he got to work cracking the lock. 

Standing with your back directly to Dean, you scanned the small field behind you and beyond the fencing, to the horizon. You could never get over how legitimately flat Kansas was. Everywhere, every part of it… just… so flat; just ground and horizon for miles. The proverbial opposite of the mountains and boulders of Colorado where you’d grown up. The two places could not have been more different.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears and you did everything in your power to focus on your breathing so that you could listen out for any movement in the grass or trees or buildings surrounding you. You tried not to imagine Sam lying dead beside a pile of shed shifter goo. But it was the only place your imagination seemed currently capable of going to. 

“The horizon, the stars, the trees swaying in the wind, the moon,” you thought as you scanned the area slowly, from left to right, and listened. To your disbelief, it seemed to work. Other than the wind all you could hear was the scraping of Dean’s tools inside the lock. “The horizon, the stars, the trees swaying in the wind, the moon.”

Finally, after several agonizing moments, there was a soft click. Dean quickly put his tools away and tucked them back into his pocket as he stood up. He pulled his gun from the back of his jeans and released the safety.

“You pull the door and I’ll clear the entry, then fall in line behind me. Stay close,” he whispered as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You nodded blankly at him. This wasn’t your first rodeo.  “Close, do you hear me? I better be able to hear you fucking breathe,” he said sternly. 

“I’m not an idiot, Dean,” you replied in a hushed tone.

“I know you’re n-... I’m just telling you to be careful,” he said in an angry whisper. “Could ya maybe tone down the sass? It’s kinda the last thing I need right now.”

“I could say the same thing,” you thought. But Dean was right. As much as it annoyed you when Dean became overprotective, or condescending, you knew you were wasting precious minutes to save Sam. 

He stood at an angle, away from the door. You put your gun into the waistband of your jeans and gripped the handle of the door with both hands. It was an older, steel door so you knew there was a good chance it was going to drag along the door jamb and you’d have to yank it to get it fully open. 

You locked eyes with Dean and he mouthed the words, “Three, two, one.”

EDIT: Chapter 11

[baconandpie1]

MAYBE SPROUT WINGS - update

I am crying. LIterally.

This update couldn't have come at a better time for me.

I love this FIC so much, I have no words to describe it.

It's among the very few WIPs I've reread without much hope of it ever be finished.

It was worth reading it every time.

Still is.

[novafics]

l Tech Angel l

Castiel X Reader

Warnings: Nothing much just fluffy goodness

Summary: Late night research turns into more after teaching Cas how to use the computer.

Word Count: 408

Masterlist

---

“I will never understand you humans and knowing how to use all of this technology” it was currently late at night in the bunker, Sam and Dean had long ago gone to bed in preparation for the next days hunt, You and Castiel however decided to stay awake in order to get in as much research as you both possibly could before you all set off in the morning. It was becoming more and more clear that you were getting along much better than your winged friend was.

“You're not even on the search bar Cas” you stated trying your very hardest not to laugh at the angel’s struggles. You would have thought that angels would already know how to do everything before they got down here, them being all knowing beings and all but that has proved to be far from the truth as you watched on as Cas hap haphazardly started typing single letters on the keyboard not understanding how it wasn’t knowing what he wanted it to do.

“Here let me help”, you started getting closer to Cas scooting in next to him and leaning in a little more than necessary just to be that much closer to the angel. “This is how you use it, see?” you stated looking over at him, though due to your height difference you were more likely looking up at him even though you were both sat next to each other. As you looked over towards Cas however you saw that his focus was not on what you were showing him on the computer but instead focused on your face the entire time.

You don’t know whether it was the close proximity you both shared or the love sick face that he had as he stared into your eyes but in this moment you were so thankful of your decision to sit just that bit closer.

You both sat there in a comfortable silence staring at one another as Cas closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you with such intensity it quite literally took your breath away. “Who needs to understand technology when I have the smartest person in the world?” That statement was far from the truth, you weren't the smartest but to Cas he fully meant it and just knowing that fact made you feel so loved and appreciated that you fell more in love with the angel, if that was even possible.

[im-turnip]

Summer Heat

A/N: a new post? After like years of nothing? Lifes crazy. This is an old old draft ive decided to finish.

Pairing: Sam x fem!reader

Warnings: self deprecation, briefly rude Sam?

It was always hot in the bunker in the summer time so wearing little clothes was a normal thing for the two boys. You had known them for quite some time and have been living with them for a few years now. Normally you wear more clothes because you’re self-conscious, but it was particularly hot today and you decided it was time to finally get his attention. 

Sam ignores your small flirtatious comments. Blowing off any sort of sign of your feelings for him.

You threw on a sports bra and small spandex shorts and went to sit with the boys. Dean’s eyes caught your body, checking you out obviously. He made eye contact with you, giving you a silent compliment.

He understood what you were trying to do with Sam. He supported it. Sam’s told him he has feelings for you too.

You sat down across from Sam and opened your book. He looked at you before looking back to his computer. You leaned on the table, pushing your breasts up slightly. He looked up at you again, eye’s flickering down to your chest. With an annoyed eye roll, he looked back to his computer.

“Ouch,” you thought. You did it again and he looked up at you.

“What are you doing y/n?” He snapped slightly, obviously annoyed. You shrugged, eyes staying on your book.

“If you’re not gonna tap that while she’s offering then I will.” Dean laughed. You laughed and flipped him off.

“Not interested, you go ahead, Dean,” Sam said. Okay, owe. Dean flashed a small look of sympathy to you. You softly closed your book before setting it down, harder then you meant to. Both boys eyes were on you as you stormed out. 

What upset you wasn’t the fact that you weren’t getting the attention you wanted but because you were incredibly self-conscious about your body. You put your body out there for him, and he acted annoyed with it. Dean looked at his brother once you left the room.

“What’s up with her?” Sam asked Dean. He just frowned and shook his head. 

“Sam?” Dean said after a moment. He looked up from his computer at his brother.  “Do you ever think maybe she wants you to look at her?” 

“What do you mean?” Sam said, genuinely confused.

“I mean. She’s not interested in me. We all know that. We also all know she’s extremely self-conscious about her body. She just came out here half naked. We both know that wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for her, she probably hated every minute of that. That leaves one reason she was doing that. You, Sam.” 

“Yeah. I’m sure. She totally wants me.” He said sarcastically. 

“I swear, with the amount you two hate yourselves, you’re perfect for each other. She’s told me, Sam. Just trust me on this and go take care of her. Just keep it quiet, I don't want to hear you two have sex.” Dean said, opening his own laptop and turning on Netflix. Sam runs a hand over his face before heading to your room.

You were sitting on your bed, wrapped in a silk robe, just scrolling through your phone when there was a soft knock. 

“Come in.” You said, thinking it might be Dean. Sam opens the door and you look up at him, rolling your eyes when you seen it was him, then turning your attention back to your phone. 

He leaned against the door frame and rubbed the back of his neck before speaking. 

“So I guess I’m stupid.” he said.

“Yep.” you said, not looking up from your phone.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

Feeling annoyed with him, all you said was. “Ok.” 

He stood there for a few moments not saying anything. 

You put your phone down and sighed. “Did you need something?” You asked, looking at him.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I was a jerk. You didn't deserve that" he said while rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"It's fine, Sam. I get it you're not interested. I don't blame you. No hard feelings" you said, going back to your phone.

"I- thats not tr-" he started, but you cut him off. You put your phone down with a sigh.

"Sam. You don't have to explain yourself. I'm a big girl, I can handle a simple rejection." That was a lie. You were trying to hold yourself together until he left. It wasn't the rejection. It was the way it happened. You could handle a simple 'No thanks, I'm not interested' but he was rude about it. That did nothing to help the already crumbling state of your self-esteem.

He mumbled another quick apology before turning to leave out the open doorway before he was stopped by his brother.

"No. Go back in there." Dean said, practically pushing the taller brother back into the room. "This has gone on long enough you two. You both have feelings for each other, are attracted to each other and you both know it! You both hate yourselves just enough to not believe it. Now, you two need to grow up and talk this out like the adults you are." He said before shutting the door and walking away, leaving you alone in your bedroom with the younger Winchester.

You both sighed and looked at each other. You sat up more against your head board and patted the spot in front of you, inviting him to sit. He accepted, sitting hunched over at your feet with his hands on his lap as if to appear smaller, less intimidating.

It was silent for a while before you sighed again.

"He's right, isn't he?" You asked in more of a whisper. He nodded.

"Look Sam, we can just go back to the way things were. Put this behind us. Just be friends." You suggest, even though that's not what you want at all.

He turned to look at you. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" He asked. You hesitated, considering lying and saying yes, as to not make this harder than it has to be. But you can't, if you did this entire event would have been pointless. You subtly shake your head no, so subtle you weren't even sure if you actually shook your head at all.

That concern was put to rest when he said "Me neither." Silence. Again.

"Why?" Was all you could muster.

"Why? You're beautiful, funny, insanely intelligent. You're a badass hunter and a great person. You're kind and comforting to everyone you meet. Why would anyone not want to be with you, Y/N?" He spoke, turning on the bed to look at you head on.

"That's not all true, Sam. I’m a good, kind hunter, but, that's all that could be said about me. Compared to you and Dean, I am nothing. You are an amazing hunter, the sweetest, kindest person I've ever known. You're wicked smart not to mention how attractive you are. I am nothing, Sam. I'm just a burden on you guys, another person to worry about." You said, maintaining eye contact with him as if that will keep you from breaking down.

His face softened. He placed a hand on your knee. "Don't say that." He said simply.

After a few more moments of silence, he spoke again, "Wow, Dean's right, we really do hate ourselves don't we." He said with a chuckle. You let out a small laugh as well.

“Yeah, maybe. We’ve got to work on that.” You chuckled.

“I really do like you, Y/N. I was being a jerk because I thought.. well I don’t know what I thought. You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry. I think you’re beautiful.” He smiled and you placed your and on top of his on your knee.

“Thank you, Sam.” You smiled.

“What do you say we go for lunch? Preferably someplace with air conditioning.” He chuckled, taking your hand in his as he stood.

“Like a date?” You questioned.

“Yeah, like a date.”

(GIF not mine)

[grand-pickle]

How does one ask for beta readers?

Basically, I have a fanfic with an oc hunter that I like **just** started writing. It's Supernatural, I got inspiration from another fan fic that I really like and it spurred me on to start writing. I've got a few pages now but I've been writing all night and doing small amounts of research on the show. What I am asking is if anyone is interested in being a beta reader or has an idea where I can find people that might be. I'd just like to know another pair of eyes has gone over it and it doesn't sound weird. Disclaimer: I haven't finished the show, I might be around season 8 or 10, it's been a while and I haven't checked. Obviously I'm going to get that done even if I have to pirate it or sm.

[rockhoochie]

You're welcome ❤️

[zloveon]

Hihi everyone!! Sorry I haven’t been active, I’ve been really busy. I just got home from my party and I’m moving out soon. I’m also really struggling to write the fic so I’m gonna say that for every single question I get in my ask box that I’m write another 2-3 paragraphs!! (idea adapted from @ohsc)

[iprobablyshipit91]

Words Unsaid

Part 6

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff / angst / royal au

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: And yet again, a few swears in this one and mentions of sex. However there will be some major triggers in later chapters. These will be tagged appropriately on the relevant chapters, but please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist || SPN Masterlist

Previous || Next

I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

“What are you doing?" You whisper and your heart is in your throat. He is so close to you that you can smell the faint whiff of whiskey on his breath - he must have been down at the tavern.

His nose touches yours gently as he pulls you towards him, fingers flexing against your skin.

"I'm fighting for what I want." He whispers.

And then he is kissing you.

His kiss consumes you completely, lips soft and gentle but insistent as they collide against your own. His fingers slide so he’s cupping your cheek while the hand on your waist tugs you closer so your knees knock into his. You brain desperately scrambles for how you got here. Weren’t you just yelling at each other? How is he now kissing you as though his life depends on it?

He nips at your bottom lip sending your mind blank for a moment. You want to give yourself over to this feeling completely, to sigh and pull him closer. You want to thread your fingers through his dirty blonde hair and pull him into you, let him take over. But the little niggle in the back of your mind won’t let go and so you find yourself instead putting both hands flat on his chest and pushing hard, his lips disconnecting from yours abruptly.

He blinks down at you in a daze and you can’t help but notice how dark his eyes seem, pupils blown with lust. Before you even have chance to form a coherent thought though, he tries to duck back in to your lips but your hands stay firm on his chest.

"What are you doing?" You can hear the shake in your voice, how breathless it is, and you hate it, but with your mind spinning in circles everything just seems too much. You can’t focus on anything.

"I think it's fairly obvious, Sweetheart." While his words have the familiar sarcastic tone, his face is full of amused fondness. A softness there that completely contrasts to the earlier intensity. He moves his other hand to your hip and lessens his grip, his thumbs rubbing back and forth gently.

You try to pull back more and give yourself space to think but his hands keep you where you are. You sigh heavily. "You can't just –"

You are cut off with his mouth on yours again, firm and sure. His arms wrap back around you so that you are pressed fully against him, hands trapped between your body and his. Despite your earlier protests, you can't help but respond, his kiss completely intoxicating. His tongue gently sweeps across your bottom lip and your mouth opens without you even thinking about it. A small, strangled groan comes from the back of his throat and he takes a step forward, your body moving with his easily.

Your stomach clenches as he tilts his head and plunges his tongue into your mouth. You feel heat rapidly start to spread low in your belly, and it's perfect, just like that night all over again. He keeps moving you backwards slowly until your hip hits the desk in the corner of the room and it brings you back to your senses once again. You push hard against him again. "Dean-"

You only get out one word before his mouth slants over yours hungrily, his body pressed tight against yours. You gasp when both his hands tighten on your hips suddenly and lift, settling you on the top of the desk. Your legs fall open, and he steps forward between them.

He's clearly trying to prove a point, and he's doing a damn good job of it.

Whatever you it is.

He pulls you forward and your bodies collide at just the right spot making you moan loudly. He's hard beneath you, and you feel a slight thrill that you’ve caused this reaction in him. That it is you that’s caused him to strain against his britches. You need the friction and so you shift your body against his, a broken gasp leaving your throat at the heat that's spiking through you. He tightens his hands on your hips while nudging your chin up with his nose to expose your throat and leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin there.

You blink up at the ceiling of your bedroom, trying hard to clear the haze in your head. You need to stop this and talk to him. You still don’t understand what it is exactly he wants from you. The more he kisses you, the deeper your falling. He feels so good against you, and you’re beginning to not care so much about the why anymore just as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing.

He continues his assault on your neck, sending waves of pleasure over your skin. Small little grunts and growls leave him as he nips the soft skin and you idly wonder if he’s left any marks. His hand slowly descends down from your hip to your thigh and try as you might, you can't get your brain working to pause, to just take a breath. Before you know it, his fingers curl around the back of your knee. All of his words from earlier are twisting and turning in a confused mess in your head, made worse by the way he's moving against you, and you can't breathe, can't think, can’t do anything but hang on for the ride.

"God, Sweetheart." He's panting against your neck, hand clenching in the fabric of your nightgown, pulling it up to expose the tops of your knees. "I want you so badly."

You suddenly freeze against him. Despite the goose bumps erupting over your skin at his words, his explanation of I'm fighting for what I want mixes with I want you so badly and you feel a chill down your spine and your stomach drops to your toes. Realisation of what this is hits you hard and you swallow thickly.

He wants you, but not all of you. He just wants this, this pulsing physicality that surges between you.

He wants to bed you, just like he did your maid.

The hot pressure burns behind your eyes once again and your left feel so stupid. You worm your hands between you and brace them on his arms.

"Dean." He ignores you, mouth still firmly attached to your pulse point. His teeth graze your skin, causing your eyes to flutter but the spell has broken. You push him away hard.

"Dean, stop."

He freezes instantly at the word, finally pulling back and resting his hands on your knees. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He swallows hard, blinking rapidly while he calms his breathing. His eyes search your face as his hand comes to cup your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in confusion when he sees the look on your face.

"Did I hurt you?"

You bite your lip.

No.

Yes.

"What are you doing?" It's a whisper, and you can hear how broken and sad your voice sounds. You want him, God you want him so badly, but not like this. You refuse to be used like this.

"What do you mean?" His voice is soft, and his hand is warm where it rests back against your neck. You feel the frustration bubble up inside you immediately.

“This!" You gesture wildly between you both. "What exactly is this?" He just stares at you dumbfounded. "Because Dean, I can't… I can’t just fuck you." He winces as the vulgarity tumbles from your mouth and if you weren’t so wound up you would find it so funny. He’s the one with the vocabulary problem, yet he winces every time a swear leaves your mouth. You surge on. "I can't do this with you, Dean. You're my best friend and you mean too much to me. You can't just sleep with me and then –"

You stop, swallowing hard and focus on his chest, unable to meet his eyes. He shifts in front of you, lifting your chin so he can see your face. "And then what?"

"And then… disappear." You finish. "I won’t be just another conquest to you."

His entire body goes eerily still, thumb halting its soothing motion against your neck. "Is that really what you think of me?"

You shrug and lock your eyes back onto the fabric of his vest. He pushes off you with a growl, pacing around in frustration as a hand swipes angrily down his face.

"Fucking hell Sweetheart, have you not been listening to a word I've said?"

Your eyes blink back up to see his brimming with anger, his arms out to the side as he raises both eyebrows expectantly. "I literally just told you I had feelings for you just seconds ago. And you still believe that I'm trying to engage in some casual fuck?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, you said that you were fighting for what you want and then lifted me onto a desk and spread my legs. What the hell am I supposed to think, you idiot?" You respond sarcastically, eyes narrowing on his.

His eyes flash, dark and dangerous. "You're supposed to believe me when I tell you things. You know that’s not easy for me."

"I do believe you, I just don’t want to be another notch in your bedpost." Your heart clenches at just the mere thought.

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"If the shoe fits."

You glare at each other in silence. After a moment or two, you see then the corners of his lips twitch and you feel yours do the same in response. You refuse to give in and grin at him though. All of a sudden he heaves a heavy sigh and his whole body seems to deflate. He looks at you carefully, eyes soft as his thumb resumes its gentle caress against your neck.

"Sweetheart, the only reason I slept with all those girls is because I have feelings for you." He looks at you so earnestly and you can tell in your heart he isn't lying. "I didn't think I had any sort of chance with you, and I was too weak to push you away, so I distracted myself with meaningless conquests. You are not a meaningless conquest."

He sighs again and takes hold of your hand. "In fact, if it makes you feel more secure about the whole thing, we don't have to do anything like that until-"

"Is it true?" You cut him off, not needing him to finish that sentence but needing to know this. You bite your lip and look up at him, fingers twisting with his. You feel a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the way he was kissing you and everything to do with the way he's looking at you. "Do I really mean something to you?"

"Sweetheart." Those eyes of his hit a deeper shade of green and the warmth in your chest blossoms and expands. "You mean everything to me.”

"So, are you planning on asking my parents to formally court me?" You say it as casually as you can, when in reality you’ve been freaking out about it for the past week and a half. Since that night in your bedroom, your relationship has taken a deep dive into the romantic side, but you have kept it strictly between the two of you.

Everything was the same as it was before, best friends who spent every waking moment with each other, you just now made out furiously at any opportunity you got. Annoyingly, the castle was hardly ever vacant, meaning it was far less frequent than you preferred and had left you both getting creative. Dean had pulled you into a weaponry closet after your sword lessons, and when you surprised him during his solo shift in the kitchens, he laid you out on the table. You’d also had one particularly fun afternoon in the garden shrubbery. You really didn't see the need for the whole not doing anything like that. Dean was it for you and you know he feels the same about you.

He quirks an eyebrow at you from across the booth, eyes glancing at the people around you casually. He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.

"You really wish to have this conversation now? Here?" He motions around the busy tavern and you rolls your eyes before focusing intently back on him.

"Were you even planning on asking my parents?" Your voice is low and you watch him purse his lips as he picks at the wood of the table.

"Yeah. I am." He supplies. He peeks up at you and you can tell by his expression you’re not going to like what he says next. "But after your ball."

"After my ball? Why after my ball?" You ask, confused why that should matter.

He pauses and takes a sip of his drink, eyes firmly on yours. He shrugs. "I just figured you should be unattached for your ball."

He says unattached with a forced lightness but you can hear the hurt and his eyes are hard. Your face falls as understanding takes hold of you.

"You still think I'm going to come out of that ball completely head over heels in love with some nobleman?"

By the look on his face that's exactly what he thinks. His lips twist in a grimace and he takes another much larger sip of his drink. "They can give you much more than I can Sweetheart, and you know it."

You wish you weren't in this crowded bar because you want to kiss that sad look right off his face. You want to whisper in his ear just how amazing he is and that no one can compare to him. You also want to smack him for being so god-damned stupid.

You decide to use your words instead. "I just want you, Dean. Only you.”

The smile he gives you might be better than a kiss anyway.

Next

Tags:

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

[spnisthewayoflife]

Birthday Suprise

Part 4 of This is your life, Dean Winchester! The link to the series is here, head over and have a read!

[dreampencil]

There should be an official day for fan fic writers...like honouring them as bringers of happiness, also bringers of lusty thoughts about hot actor men & women

[baconandpie1]

Kudos From 'A Guest'

Thank you , Guest! Really :D

[novafics]

l Secrets l

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Injury, Talk of Death

Summary: It was supposed to be an easy hunt, why did it have to go so wrong?

Word Count: 864

Masterlist

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It was supposed to be an easy hunt, that’s what you kept telling yourself over and over. How could you be so stupid to let this happen?. Currently you are in the middle of a hunt with Sam and Dean trying to hunt down a vengeful spirit. Sam was currently out burning the bones and you and Dean were left to fend off the spirit until Sam got rid of them. It was supposed to be easy, stay alert, don't stray too far from one another and use salt and iron to get rid of them for some time when they appear. 

While staying quiet and alert with Dean in the kitchen the spirit had appeared and was quickly gotten rid of by Dean with one shot of the shotgun, however somewhere throughout the house another noise was heard. You being you decided that it should be checked out and told Dean that you would be right back. “Ok, but don't stray too far darling, Sam shouldn't be too long now, we're nearly done” taking his advice you were careful, quiet and went to check out the noise to make sure there wasn't anything else in the house that was concerning. What you failed to realise however was that this is exactly what the spirit wanted.

The spirit you were currently hunting had killed 4 women in the span of a week, not you Sam or Dean could figure out why only women but only that he had some real anger for them and so for you to now be straying too far from Dean was the perfect moment for the spirit to strike, and strike it did.

As you neared the storage room at the far back of the house you realised just how far you had gotten away from Dean and quickly decided to head back, but not before the spirit had jumped from the corner of the room and plunged a knife straight into your side. Luckily for you, you managed to catch the spirit with the end of your iron crowbar dispelling it from the room. Deciding it wasn't that bad even though the pain was now coursing through your sides and moving quickly over your body, you made the even stupider decision to remove the knife. Bad Mistake.

As soon as you managed to slide the knife out and away from your body that's when more and more blood started to pour from the stab wound, with you putting as much pressure as you could with your jacket trying so hard to keep it hidden. ‘All you had to do was stay together and wait for Sam to burn the bones’ you said to yourself, cursing your poor decision making the least you could do for the boys was to wait until you got back to the motel and patch it up yourself which also wasn't the brightest decision on your part but the only one that wouldn't cause worry to Sam and Dean.

Not long after that Sam had burned the bones and you were all in the Impala heading back. On the journey back you were getting more and more light headed the closer you came to the motel, something that didn't escape Dean as he watched you from the mirror. He could clearly see you swaying back and forth and was determined to find out what was wrong.

As you all arrived you didn't make it 2 steps from the car before Dean was hoisting you into his arms and carrying you to the room. “Sam get the first aid kit, somethings wrong” Dean shouted out as you all entered the room. “What? I'm fine Dean seriously, don't worry about me I'm fine” much to your dismay your convincing was not enough and soon enough your very serious looking stab wound was soon revealed. “Fine?! You can't be serious darling you're nearly bleeding out here” Dean at this point was beyond worried and so decided to leave the stitching you up to Sam in favour of holding you in his lap and making sure you stayed awake.

“Hey, look at me baby, it's fine, you're fine” Dean said as he held your face in his hands and pulled your attention away from Sam stitching up your side. You know that you were stupid and that you shouldn't have hid your injury and seeing the concern in Dean’s eyes as he held you made you decide that you were never gonna split up from him again, not so that you wouldn't get injured again but so that you would never have to see Dean so upset again.

Not soon after Sam had finished and you were all getting ready for bed, Dean pulled you up onto his chest and held you close to him as he looked deep into your eyes. “Promise me you'll tell me if your hurt sweetheart, please. I couldn't bear to do this again, or even worse lose you, please” Dean begged, holding you as close as humanly possible. “I promise baby” you replied placing a kiss to his lips, that promise being something that you did indeed keep from that moment forth.

[the-family-business-83]

This is a list to keep track of masterlists for each fandom. This list will likely be updated in the future as needed.

Fandoms that I write for are: Supernatural, The Boys, Marvel, and Top Gun (coming soon). If it's not on the list I won't take requests for it.

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Fandoms

Supernatural Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

Other fandoms may be added at a future date!

The Boys Masterlist (Coming soon)

Top Gun Masterlist (Coming soon)

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Other original series

(Coming soon)

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Headcannon lists

(Coming soon)

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Taglists

(Coming soon)